“My father—”
“Your father?” Flynn snorted. “I laid you on the floor of your own home, and Teddy’s only worry was that I’d damaged the business. You think that’s what Nate’s mum would be worried about in the same situation?”
They both knew the answer was no. Flynn took his arm back.
“Teddy is paying me to get off the island,” he said. “But he doesn’t care whether you’re here or not. If you really think that’s better, that’s pathetic.”
It was obvious from Max’s face—the twist of his mouth and the evasive flicker of his eyes—that Flynn’s jab had drawn blood. Somehow that didn’t make Flynn feel any better. Max was a lot of things, but he wasn’t to blame for any of it. He was just there to take advantage of it. Part of Flynn couldn’t blame him for that. If he’d had the chance to take Nate from Max, he would have done it. He still would probably.
With a disgusted noise that might have been for Max or for himself, Flynn headed for the car. He drove away without looking back. Nate still deserved an apology, but it didn’t look like he needed one.
Kenny was waiting for him on the narrow seawall at the garage as gulls squabbled within feet of him. He hopped off when he saw Flynn, shoved his hands into the pockets of his overalls, and stood in front of the garage.
TheDelaney and Sonsign hung over his head. Flynn pulled in to the end of the road and stared through the dusty, bug-splattered windshield at the sign mounted over the peeling doors. He wondered how many times his dad had done the same thing and whether the lie of it had made him bitter or if he’d hung on to it in the hope that Flynn would come back one day.
Flynn wrenched the keys out of the ignition and scrambled out of the car. He could taste the salt on the air and the old grease from last night’s chips still waiting to be changed. In his head he could see himself there five or ten years down the line. The Granshire cars would roll through whenever they needed a service or an oil change, and every few months he’d see Nate or Max around the town. They’d have a kid together, maybe, or Teddy would have died and Nate would support Max as they took over the Granshire.
It would be a life, whatever it was, and Flynn would just be there. He’d be too old to do rescue eventually, and all he’d have would be cars and a lighthouse no one ever came to. Would he get bitter, he wondered, or would he still hope that Nate would change his mind and come back?
He didn’t know which would be worse.
“Fuck it,” he said flatly. The sea wind caught his voice and blew it away from his lips.
“Boss?” Kenny said.
Flynn twisted the key to the garage off his key ring and tossed it. Kenny grabbed it out of the air and squinted at it as though he’d never seen it before. He looked back up at Flynn with a baffled expression on his face.
“Finish up on the cars we’ve already booked in,” Flynn said. “Don’t take on any more. Once you’re done, lock the place up. I’ll mail you your last paycheck.”
Dismay pulled Kenny’s face down. “I’m fired?”
Flynn shrugged. “I’m closing up shop,” he said. “I’ll give you a good reference. Someone will have to open up here again. Just wrap up existing business, and I’ll pay you through to the end of the month.”
He could afford it with Teddy’s payoff burning a hole in his pocket. Kenny spluttered something about “what, when, why,” but Flynn didn’t feel like answering. He gave the garage one last look and wondered if he’d miss it.
It felt like he should, but he didn’t think he would.
“There’s a set of spare keys in my desk,” he told Kenny as he climbed back into the driver’s seat. “If you want, go up to the lighthouse tomorrow and grab anything you want before St. John chucks it all in the sea.”
He left Kenny to gawp after him and turned the car toward the coast. It wouldn’t take long to pack up what he needed—a couple of bags of clothes and a box of paperwork—but he’d made up his mind. The last thing he needed was a reason to spend one more day on the island.
It could easily turn into two days. A week. Longer.
Not this time.
